


Bespoken

by spoilersweetie



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 15:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoilersweetie/pseuds/spoilersweetie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time River sees his new face, he doesn’t get the reaction he’d been expecting. Twelfth Doctor/Mels Zucker focused fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bespoken

The first time River sees his new face, he doesn’t get the reaction he’d been expecting.

Of course, one never could really know what to expect from River Song, but after two hundred and forty six years of marriage, the Doctor liked to think he knew her rather well enough by now to hazard a fairly good guess in most situations.

He has mirrors and he isn’t _daft…_ this new self- his twelfth - is… really rather good-looking. He’d go as far as to say handsome. Dashing, even. Therefore it was with something of a certain smugness he’d punched in the co-ordinates for his wife’s house, and with once last check in the mirror, out of the TARDIS he’d strutted.

River is standing at her back door, leaning on the frame with her arms folded and a smile on her lips when he pushes open the TARDIS door and strolls out with arms held wide and a smirk on his face. In an instant, the smile falls from her lips and her eyes grow wide, her arms dropping to her sides as she stares.

Uneasiness bubbling immediately, the Doctor quickly deduces that she is probably just startled and perhaps doesn’t realise it’s him (although he’s not sure who else she expects to stroll out of his TARDIS.) He grins at her, and twirls.

“Hi honey,” he says. “… I’m home?”

Eyeing him up and down slowly, still with that startled wide-eyed expression, River speaks. “Doctor?”

“Ah,” he says. “Was sort of half expecting you to have met this me already but clearly  not – no matter. Got in a spot of bother involving cybermen and the end of the world. Well, one of them anyway. Not to worry though dear, all better now, nice safe planet once again –well sort of – and sort of better – as you can see, er…” He trails off when River does not show any hint of amusement or even a reaction to what he is saying, only stares at him, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“This is your twelfth regeneration?” She clarifies.

“Yes. Unless I lost count.” He does a mental check just to be sure (because her expression really is rather unnerving) “Yep, number twelve. So…” He gives her another twirl and tweaks – where his bowtie used to be. He’d taken it off, this regeneration had a much thicker neck than the last and the Doctor had found himself choking as soon as he was done. He hadn’t felt the urge to put it back on. “What do you think?” He asks her, with a hint of anxiousness, only because she was looking at him so strangely.

River appears to give herself a little shake. “You look amazing sweetie,” she forces a smile. “Always do. Are you stopping? I’ll uh… put the kettle on.” She turns to hurry back inside before the Doctor can open his mouth.

“Tea is always lovely,” he says as he follows her in. “Although I was going to suggest a little trip? If you fancy helping me take my new body for a test drive.”

Popping the kettle on, River shoots him a filthy look and he discovers this regeneration blushes just as easily as the last. “Ah – not what I meant, but er… can’t say I’m entirely adverse to the idea…” He steps up to her, sliding hands onto her hips, fingertips slipping beneath her shirt and River leans back into him a bit.

“Oh,” She purrs, “Touchy-feely are we this time, sweetie?”

He smooths a hand up over her stomach beneath her shirt, burying his nose in her curls and inhaling their delicious scent as he smiles. “Apparently. Mind?”

“Not at all.” She leans back into him another second before she pulls away, patting his hand. “But why don’t you go sit down and let me make the tea honey. I’ll be in in a moment.”

Sensing something is still off, the Doctor drops a kiss to her curls and does as he’s asked, moving away from her and wandering into her sitting room. She emerges from the kitchen a few moments later with two steaming mugs, pressing one into his hands before sitting down on the opposite end of the settee to him, curling her legs up underneath her.

She watches quietly over her mug as she sips her tea, and he allows her a moment to simply look, before he clears his throat.

“Alright,” he says. “What is it?”

“What’s what?” She answers quickly.

“What’s _wrong?_ You’ve been off since you saw me – and don’t pretend you haven’t. Is it my nose? Because I know it’s a little crooked in the middle but really I thought it rather gave me a sort of macho look…”

“It’s not your _nose_ , sweetie,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You look fine. You look fantastic, honey…” She drops her voice a bit, raking his form with eyes that he doesn’t miss darkening a little with genuine desire and he settles a bit.

“Then what is it?”

River lets out a sigh. “You’re not going to like this… or  - well,” she bites out a laugh, “Actually you might.”

“What?”

“You’re gonna have to go back… - to me. To _Melody.”_

“What?” He repeats.

River sighs. “When I was seventeen - when I was Mels… I met you. _This_ you.”

The Doctor’s eyebrows shoot up, suddenly understanding what was in her gaze when he’d first stepped out of the TARDIS – not dislike but _recognition._ “You did?”

She nods. “I didn’t _know_ it was you… I never knew.” Her brow furrows as she looks down into her tea. “And actually, it all makes a little more sense now.” She smiles. “To think I was being trained and conditioned to kill you, and there you were right under my nose and I didn’t even _realise._ Oh, I would have been so mad _._ ” She chuckles a little.

He stares at her. “How did we meet?”

She glances up with a half-smirk. “You were my teacher.”

“I _what?”_

River grins into her tea, taking a sip. “Supply teacher. Our maths teacher was off sick, you were covering. You were only there a day. Well – you couldn’t exactly come back after that…”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Was I that terrible?”

River chuckles. “No,” she says, looking down into her tea. “But I was.”

He tilts his head at her curiously.

“So… I just have to pretend to be a teacher for the day?” He rubs his hands together and grins. “Sounds like fun.”

River looks over at him, biting her lip.  

“What?”

“I think, on this occasion,” she says carefully, “Spoilers may be necessary…”

He raises his eyebrows. “What? Why? What happens?”

“Well…” River fidgets a bit. “I’m not sure if you’d actually do it unless I told you that you already had…”

He shakes his head. “Do what?”

“Doctor… I slept with you.” She watches his eyes go wide and looks down into her tea with a half-hidden smirk. “Hence your stint as my teacher only lasting one day…”

The Doctor stares at her, absorbing this information. “… Oh.”

“Hmm.”

“You and me… when you were… !?” He waves a hand.

“Mmm,” she clarifies. She opens her mouth as if to speak again but changes her mind, and instead takes another sip of tea.

“What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

“Err…” He scratches his face. “So um… how does this happen?”

She throws him a smirk. “Spoilers!” She sings predictively, and he sighs.

“Of course.”

“Now,” River says, and puts down her tea to crawl across the sofa towards him. She slinks neatly onto his lap, sliding her arms up round his neck with a smirk. “Enough of that. I think it’s about time you and I take this new body for that test drive, don’t you sweetie?”

The Doctor grins, reaching over the arm of the settee to set down his tea too before sliding both arms round River’s small waist and pulling her close. “I couldn’t agree more, dear.”

\--

The Doctor takes a pause as he stands outside the classroom door in Leadworth School. He takes a deep breath, shaking off his irrational nerves. Really – he didn’t know why he was anxious. They were just a group of human teenagers after all – of course he could handle that. Although, if he admitted it to himself it was one specific teenager he was anxious about meeting. His wife’s younger self, in all of her wild rebellious youth, sat just behind this door, and it was a slightly strange thought… of course, he had met Mels before, right at the very end of her regeneration, and from what he can remember she was a lot like his River but to the point of extremes. Wilder, untamed… dangerous. This was the young psychopath, currently being conditioned to be his murderer and he knew he would do well not to forget that.

Clearing his throat and tugging the lapels of his grey suit jacket straight, he pushes open the door and strides in, introducing himself with a grin.

He locates her straight away – it’s difficult not to. Sat at the back of the classroom – no Amy, he notices - slouched in her chair with arms folded, the chair tilted onto it’s back legs and leant against the wall behind her. He makes sure not to let his gaze linger too long and turns to write ‘Doctor Smith,’ on the board at the front.

The class is a rather rowdy bunch, and it takes him a few minutes to settle them before he can get through the register and launch into a lecture. Algebra, the head of year had told him in his quick briefing before the class. He’d arrived to cover for a Mr. Long who mysteriously hadn’t shown up that morning (he would be fine once he came round from a nice long sleep this evening) last minute, and hadn’t had time to discuss any finer details of the class’s syllabus. The Doctor wasn’t familiar with the particulars of earth school curriculums, so was left to guess the level his students for the day were at.

His guess was a bit out, it seemed, when he looked away from the equations he’d begun to write out on the blackboard to blank faces.

“Mr. Smith?” A blond girl with big hoop earrings sticks her hand up.

“Doctor,” He corrects her. “Doctor Smith, and yes?”

She opens her mouth to continue but another female voice speaks up from the back.

“If you’re a Doctor what are doing teaching GCSE maths to a bunch of kids as a supply teacher?” It’s Melody, and he fights a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Had a free day,” he shrugs. “Can’t do great and wonderful things every day after all.”

“And you usually do?” She quirks an eyebrow.

“Mostly, yes. You had a question about the equations?” He addresses the blonde girl again.

“Can I use the bathroom, sir?”

He sighs. “Yes,” and waves her off.

“So should we call you _Doctor_ , Doctor Smith?” Mels pipes up from the back with a small smirk on her lips and the class collectively groan.

He glances round with raised eyebrows. “Er –“

“Shut up Mels,” one student complains.

“Don’t let her get going on _that_ …” Groans another.

“On what?” He plays dumb, as Mels just smirks.

“She’s obsessed with Doctors!”

“ _The_ Doctor, idiot,” She spits back at the boy in the third row, “And I’m not _obsessed_.”

“And who’s this Doctor?” The Doctor says with his best poker face.

“Her imaginary friend!” Calls out a girl near the back and the class laugh.

“He’s _not_ my imaginary friend – you lot don’t know shit, so shut it!”

“Alright, alright!” The Doctor calls out, waving his hands to quiet the noise that has arisen in the classroom. He briefly muses that should these students know whom they were dealing with and what she was capable of they might not be so quick to rile her. “Let’s get back to Algebra, shall we?”

He finishes the equations and a ten minute explanation, at the end of which he turns to the class expectantly.

“So,” he says, “Who has a final answer for me?”

The class stare at him blankly. Definitely overestimated their mathematical level, then. He’d thought it was a relatively easy equation…

“Come on somebody must know – have a guess, anyone?”

A boy in the front row raises a tentative hand. “Ah – yes?”

“Is it… five?”

The Doctor’s gaze flickers over to Mels just in time to see her roll her eyes.

“How about you at the back?” He can’t help himself from asking.

She raises an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Yep. Got any idea?”

“I _know_ what the answer is,” she says cockily.

“Ah. Feel like sharing?”

“Not really.”

He sighs. “That’s alright,” he says, “It’s a difficult sum, don’t feel bad. Anyone else –“

“It’s four-nine-six.”

He resists the urge to smirk triumphantly.

“It is!” He says, as if surprised she got it right (of course, he _isn’t_.)“What about if we changed the amount x equals to three-point-five instead of just three? Now I don’t expect anyone will be able to get this but -”

“Six-eight-two.” Mels pipes up.

He catches her eyes ,unable to help the smile coming to his lips. “Three-point-eight?”

“Seven-three-four-point-two.”

“Three-point-seven-three?”

“Seven-two-eight-point-two-one.”

“What if you changed the y to two-point-three and multiplied by the four instead of divide?”

She takes a couple of seconds pause to consider that one. “Two-thousand-eight-hundred-and-thirty-six…” Another seconds pause. “Point-two-three.”

He grins at her.

The rest of the class is stunned into silence as they’d watched the exchange. “She’s got a calculator sir!” Pipes up a boy by the window. “Under her desk – I bet ya!”

“No I haven’t,” Mels snaps back.

“Well she’s probably hidden it now!”

Mels huffs and rolls her eyes, turning her head away to look at her nails, uninterested.

“Come on sir,” Another boy says, “No-one can work all that out – make her hold her hands up I bet you she’s got a calculator!”

“Alright that’s enough!” He calls out as the class erupts in agreements. “Settle down, it doesn’t matter,” he says, “I think we should move on.” His eyes catch Melody’s just briefly when she looks up at him, and he gives her the smallest of winks. She smiles, just barely.

“Pens and paper out everyone, I want you to write down what I’m putting on the board and work them out for yourselves…”

The class shuffle to obey, and the rest of the lesson passes uneventfully. Leaving them to their work, the Doctor wanders round the class to peer over student’s shoulders, helping when he’s needed to and pointing out mistakes. When he gets to Melody’s desk at the back and peeps at her paper however, he finds not the sums he’d given them, but a sketch. Of a gun.

He clears his throat pointedly and Mels looks up at him innocently. “What?”

“I think I remember asking you to write down the sums and work them out, not draw pictures,” he chides, hoping the amusement and affection isn’t as obvious in his voice as he hears it.

“Don’t need to write them down.”

He sighs, sure she doesn’t, and leaves her to it.

When the bell rings at the end of the lesson and the class leap to their feet with the loud scraping of chairs, he clears his throat and raises his voice above the noise.

“Melody, if I could have a word?”

“It’s Mels.”

“Right.”

He waits until the rest of the class have left and Mels saunters over to his desk.

“So. What is it? Detention? Because I’m already on it tonight and I’m busy tomorrow so you’ll have to get in line, I’m afraid.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not putting you on detention – you haven’t done anything wrong.”

She shrugs, looking down as she runs her fingers absently over his desk. “That makes a change.”

The Doctor sighs and leans forward, clasping his hands together. “Melody,” he begins, “ _Mels_ ,” he corrects when she raises her eyebrows at him pointedly. “Why are you in this class?” He asks gently.

She frowns at him. “Maths is a rather significant part of the curriculum?” She says as if he’s stupid. “Believe me, I wouldn’t be in any of these classes if I had a choice.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

He sighs, and motions to one of the front desks. “Why don’t you take a seat.”

“No, thanks.” She folds her arms, leaning back on the desk behind her instead.

“What I mean, Melo – Mels, is that you an extremely intelligent young woman. I’m sure you know that.”

She shrugs, looking away.

“This is the bottom class. You shouldn’t even be in this year – let alone the bottom group.”

“Well, here I am.”

“You know you’re cleverer than this.”

“Am I?”

He wants to tell her she knows her IQ is probably triple the highest in her school but of course, she doesn’t know he knows that. “Yes. You’re the most brilliant young woman I’ve ever met.”

“Well, thank you sir,” her voice slips into a purr all too familiar to him. “Next thing you’ll be telling me I’m pretty too…”

“You are,” he answers before he can stop himself, and Mels looks up at him sharply with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on her lips.  

He clears his throat quickly. “Why did you end up in this class? And let’s stop pretending we both don’t know you’re here on purpose.”

“Alright,” she finally huffs. “So I played dumb to stay in the same year as my friends, is that so bad? I only have two in this whole school – in the whole world really…” She shakes herself, looking embarrassed for admitting that. “Obviously just played it down a bit too much in the exams because I didn’t mean to get stuck in this group but really – it was hard to tell how stupid they want you to be – I could’ve sat those tests aged three and passed.”

He looks at her evenly because he doesn’t doubt she could.

“You’re ruining your own future,” he tells her with a hint of sadness he tries to hide. Because he knows – it’s not like these academic years ever end up meaning anything for her life anyway. It’s not like anything she does now could change or prevent the horrible future laid out in front of her.

She shrugs petulantly. “I’ll do alright in the proper exams. Straight A stars, and that’s a promise – although they’ll probably assume I cheated so it won’t matter anyway.”

The Doctor sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Alright,” he says, “So you did badly on exams to stay in the year – but that doesn’t mean you have to continue to do so terribly now you’re here.” He shuffles about with the papers in front of him. “Your work is all perfect, Mels –when you turn it in. Which you’ve only done twice so far this year. Why don’t you do it?”

She snorts. “Don’t see the point?”

“If you just –“

“I got better things to do with my time than writing stupid papers and doing sums I could work out in my sleep.”

“Oh really,” he says, “Like what?”

She tenses a bit at that, and if he hadn’t been watching for it, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“Stuff,” she says after a pause. “Look, if we’re done here, I actually have some stuff to do tonight so…” She starts to make for the door but he stops her.

“Thought you were on detention?”

“Oh yeah,” she says, shrugging as she turns to walk backwards. “That. Well, like I said – stuff to do. Don’t think I’m gonna have time today.”

“I’m not sure it’s really an option,” he calls after her, but Mels just waggles her fingers at him with a cheeky smirk and saunters out of class.

He doesn’t follow her, although he knows he must see her again today; he has a feeling he will find her.

He does, or rather, she finds him, sitting on the swings in the park a little after eight that evening.

“Aren’t you a little old for playgrounds, sir?” She asks cheekily as she saunters over, still in her school uniform but minus the tie and feet shoved into trainers.

“Aren’t you?” He counters.

She shrugs, sitting herself down on the swing next to him and rummaging in her coat pocket. “I was taking a shortcut; not playing on the swings.”

“I wasn’t playing.”

“Sitting then.”

She pulls out a cigarette and offers him the packet. He frowns and declines and she sticks it back in her pocket.

“Got a light?”

“Haven’t you?”

“Lost it.”

The Doctor sighs and pulls out his sonic, grudgingly lighting the end of her cigarette for her.

“Some lighter.” She comments, with only a hint of suspicion.

“Pen knife,” he supplies. “Modified.”

“Without a knife.”

“Had to remove it to make room for the other settings.”

“What settings?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He can’t resist throwing at her and she quirks a very River-like eyebrow at him.

“I might do,” she says, turning a bit on her swing to face him.

He reaches a hand up and taps her affectionately on the nose with a finger before he can think about it. The way she jumps, startled, tells him of his mistake and he clears his throat, scratching his face.

“Sorry,” he apologises, “You just – remind me of someone a bit. A lot.”

“Who?”

He sighs. “Someone very dear to me.”

“Does she have a name?”

“Yes.”

She snorts at his response, but doesn’t press him for what it is. “Is it a nice name?” She asks instead, before taking a long drag from her cigarette.

“It’s a fantastic name.”

“Makes up for yours then.”

“What?” He turns to her, a bit offended.

“Smith?” She says with amusement. “What’s your first name?”

“John.”

“ _Seriously_?” She scoffs. “Even more boring than I thought.”

“I’m far from boring.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.”

A short pause settles between them as Mels takes another drag and blows out smoke above her head.

“Do you make a habit of this?” He asks suddenly.

“What?”

He motions between them. “Hanging out with teachers.”

Mels smiles. “Why? Jealous, sir?”

He chortles. “Hardly. Shouldn’t you be – you know… hanging out with people your own age? Dancing… _texting_ and… stuff?”

Mels quirks an eyebrow again. “How old are you?”

“Older than you.”

She rolls her eyes. “ _Obviously_.” Another drag. “And I told you. Only got two friends at school. And they’re busy tonight. My best mate Amy’s parents are away. She’s staying over at Rory’s.”

“Your other friend?”

“Rory.”

“Is he Amy’s boyfriend?”

She laughs a bit then, as if enjoying a private joke (little does she know it’s one he’s in on.) “Not right now.”

“Right now?”

“They invited me, of course. Didn’t feel like it tonight,” she says, and the Doctor knows what she really means is that she is leaving them alone on purpose.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says after a pause.

“You didn’t answer mine.”

“What was yours again?”

“How old are you?”

He grins. “Thirteen hundred and eight.”

She frowns at him. “You’re stupid.” Another drag. “Twenty-five? Thirty? I’m never any good with ages.”

“No, you’re not.”

She rolls her eyes. “No,” she says, in answer to his question. “I don’t.”

He resists the urge to say, ‘I’m glad.’

“Are you coming back tomorrow?” Mels asks.

“Do you want me to?”

She shrugs. “Don’t care.”

“Would you bother to do the work I set you for tonight if I did?”

“No,” she snorts.

“Well then,” he says. “Don’t think I’ll bother coming back either.”

She glances up to find him watching her with a small smile, and she smiles back too, and tilts her head at him, eyes trailing over his form. “You’re different to my other teachers,” she says, and if he didn’t know better, he would think there was a softness to her words.

“Yeah. I am. Although if I’m not coming back tomorrow that means I’m not your teacher anymore.”

She throws him a sidelong smirk. “Good.”

“Is it?”

Another shrug, still with that smirk on her lips as she takes a final drag. “It might be.”

She stands, tossing her cigarette to the floor and stubbing it out with her toe.

She moves to stand in front of him, her thighs brushing his knees. The Doctor holds still, and Mels reaches out to slide a bold hand over his lapel. 

“You're a bit good-looking for a maths teacher anyway sir,” She tells him in a soft tone, "Has anyone ever told you that?"

“No,” he says, “Haven’t been a maths teacher for long. Haven't been this good looking for long either.”

Mels snorts. “And what does that mean?”

“It's getting late,” he ignores her question. “Don't you have to get home?”

“No," she says, “But you can walk me there if you like.”

He sighs, smiling. “It is getting dark.”

“It is," she agrees, and holds out her hand without stepping back. "Come on then."

He takes it and stands, finding himself pressed against her before she slowly steps back, holding his gaze. He clears his throat, a bit unnerved by how much she looks like his older, confident River. 

"Lead the way then," he says, moving away and dropping her hand. She takes it again and does so.

Amy's house is apparently where Mels calls home, and he has to stop himself questioning that as she finds a key under the plant pot by the back door and lets them in.

“Nice house," he comments politely and Mels smirks at him over her shoulder, tossing her jacket on the banister of the darkened house and heading straight upstairs. The Doctor hovers a moment, glancing around and feeling a bit lost before giving in and following her upstairs. 

She is kicking her shoes off in Amy's room, opening the cupboard to rummage through and toss a pair of jeans and a simple tank top onto the bed. He hovers in the doorway. “Make yourself at home," Mels invites, unbuttoning her shirt and not bothering to turn around as she shucks it and unzips her school skirt. Modesty is a trait his wife clearly had never possessed. 

He averts his eyes out of politeness, but can’t deny the thrill her low chuckle at that sends through him as he wanders over and sits on the bed. Memories of another time he had sat on this bed with a girl in the room fill his mind, and he glances up at Mels a bit guiltily, as if briefly panicked that she might know by his face what he’s thinking of. He quickly reminds himself that this isn’t even actually his wife yet, and what he is thinking of hadn’t taken place in her or Amy’s timeline yet either.

Dressed, Mels wanders over and fiddles with the stereo in the corner of the bedroom until soft music fills the room. It’s something current, he expects, by the way Mels hums along softly as she runs a hand through her hair, stooping to gaze in the little mirror on the vanity. Her hair is shorter than the other time he met her, when it had been in long braids. It bounces down to her chin in soft wavy curls and he likes that – curls have always somewhat defined his River. And they suit Mels just as well.

“What does?”

He startles, and realises he’d said that last bit out loud. He clears his throat. “Your hair. It suits you like that.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “As opposed to…?”

_Of course_. “Nothing. Just suits you.” He gives her a grin and she snorts a bit, shaking her head.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a bit strange?”

“Oh yes. Many people.”

“Doctor Smith…” She muses out loud as she wanders slowly round the room,  running her fingers over the picture frames on Amy’s dresser. “What are you a Doctor of? Mathematics?”

He considers. “I might be. Must be, surely.”

“You can’t remember what you did your Doctorate in?” She says dubiously.

“Not all of them, no.”

“All of them?” She says, as if she doesn’t believe a word he’s saying. “You’ve done more than one?”

“Yep,” he says smugly, reclining back on the bed on his elbows. “Pretty much everything, I think. Did you know you can get a Doctorate in cheese-making? Neither did I until I got it.”

She seems to be unable to help but giggle at that, leaning back against the dresser, and the Doctor realises it’s the first time he’s heard her laugh. “You’re a Doctor of everything?”

“Yep,” he beams, and then quickly holds up a serious finger. “Except archaeology.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with archaeology?”

“Don’t need it.”

She gives him a strange look. “Right…”

“Mels,” he says, clearing his throat and sitting up straight as she turns back to fiddle with Amy’s collection of nail polish. “Why did you bring me here?”

She throws him a glance. “You brought yourself here.”

“I was walking you home.”

“Didn’t ask you to come in.”

“You left the door open – it was an invite.”

“You followed me upstairs and sat on my bed.”

“You told me to make myself at home!”

“I was being polite.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, frustrated, and Mels laughs then, crossing the room to stand before him.

“I’m glad you’re not my teacher,” she  says, quieter, her eyes flickering unmistakably down to his lips as she reaches out a small hand to slide it up over his bicep.

“I _was_ your teacher.”

“Not anymore.”

“No, not anymore.”

She considers. “You’re not like a teacher. You’re not like anyone. No-one’s ever spoken to me like you do. It’s almost like… you know me…” The Doctor keeps very quiet and she appears to give herself a little shake and looks a bit embarrassed. “That’s silly isn’t it? I don’t know why I said that.”

“No,” he shakes his head, letting his hands move to rest lightly on her hips, unable to stop himself from letting his thumbs stroke over her. “It’s not silly. Don’t ever think you’re _silly_ , Melody… you are so far from it,” he tells her softly.

She frowns and shakes her head quickly. “Don’t call me that. I told you.”

“Mels,” he corrects, “Sorry. Why don’t you –” But she cuts off the rest of his question with her mouth on his, leaning in to kiss him firmly.

He relaxes under her lips; he’d known this was going to happen after all, and grips her hips a little tighter as he pulls her close. She opens her mouth against him after a moment and he feels her tongue trace along his lips until he parts them to allow the kiss to deepen. Mels kisses differently to River, and yet the same. The feel of her against him is different, her mouth is different and her teeth are different when he runs his tongue over them (because yes, it has been so long that he is that familiar with the shape of his wife’s teeth beneath his tongue) but she has that same eager passion River always has, kisses him with that same openness, and yet he can feel she is holding back something of herself that River never does.

Her mouth is slightly more clumsy too, she presses a bit too hard when the kiss heats up and their noses bump a bit as she leans in close but he doesn’t mind. He slides his hands round to her lower back and Mels moans softly and arches into him, before climbing up onto his lap without breaking the kiss, one knee either side of him to straddle his thighs as her arms loop round his neck.

She breaks only briefly from him for air, before she is kissing him again with even more mounting passion. The Doctor follows her lead, letting his hands slip beneath the hem of her top to caress the soft skin of her back and she moans in response -it’s one of River’s sensitive spots, the small of her back, guaranteed to make her arch and purr like a cat and the Doctor delights in the discovery that it has the same effect on Mels. He wonders what else is the same – and what might not be in this different, younger body and a thrill goes through him at the anticipation of finding out that makes him kiss her a bit harder.

He has her top bunched up and half his shirt buttons are undone when they break the kiss to both gasp in much needed air. She sits atop his lap, panting a bit with a delightful flush to her face and he lifts a hand to cup her cheek and sees his wife staring right back at him through eyes that are simply just a different colour to usual. That’s the gift of being a Timelord – the ability to see the person within, always, to not see a person as just their outer appearance – as their body. It was something he’d seen humans struggle with when he regenerated, but never River. He was the same to River, always, in each form – just as she was the same to him in each of hers.

“So,” she says between pants, grinning. “You like me then?”

He wants to shake her, because he’s never heard so silly a question. _Enough to marry you,_ he wants to tell her, but of course he can’t, and so settles for leaning in to press another kiss to her lips.

“So very much,” he breathes against them, and she smiles as he moves to pepper kisses down over her jawline and her neck.

“I like you too… _Doctor_ ,” she purrs in his ear, seeming to take delight in saying the word and he smiles at that. Had her younger self had fantasies about him, perhaps, before she met him? Fantasies that didn’t involve killing him? His River had always been a bad girl and he wouldn’t be surprised to find out she was turned on by the thought of him all these years ago simply because she knew she shouldn’t be.

The Doctor smooths his hands over her back before sliding one round underneath her top to cup a breast over her bra. She sighs and arches into his touch and encouraged, he squeezes her as his mouth finds the spot on the side of her neck that always makes her knees go weak and he sucks on it. Sure enough, she lets out a whimper, body jerking a bit on top of him. He smirks against her skin, nipping at her lightly before soothing it with his tongue as his hand slips inside her bra.

“Just take it off,” She pants above him, and he releases her momentarily to do so, peeling her top up over her head as she lifts her arms for him, and reaching round behind her to unclasp her bra. She bites her lip, chest heaving as he gazes at her, and after a moment she squirms a bit on his lap.

“You gonna stare all night or what?”

He grins up at her before leaning forward to take a nipple straight into his mouth, swirling his tongue round the darkened bud and sucking lightly as Mels gasps and writhes under his touch.

“Oh,” she murmurs, “That feels good…”

He smirks against her skin, pressing kisses over her breasts. “Just you wait,” he mumbles into her, and she whimpers, fingers tightening in his hair.

She pushes him back after another moment, and yanks at his shirt until she has it unbuttoned all the way and can push it and his suit jacket from his shoulders. She lets her eyes rake over his form and her hands follow their path, smoothing small hot palms over his relatively new body. He is so much more well built than his last self, and it’s still a bit strange to look down and see all that muscle. He’s growing to rather like it though, and so, apparently, does Mels, if the darkening of her eyes and the way she takes her bottom lip between her teeth as she gazes at him is anything to go by.

He pulls her close, sighing at the feel of her bare chest pressed to his, and kisses her again, hands sliding up to tangle in hair that isn’t as curly as he is used to but feels differently wonderful beneath his hands all the same. She wriggles forward a bit on his lap and they both break apart to gasp as her hot core presses against his erection through their layers of clothes. She rocks her hips a bit and the Doctor grunts, hands tightening in her hair as he resists the urge to buck up into her.

“Do you like that?” Mels whispers, repeating the motion, grinding down against him with a bit more force this time and he hisses, taking hold of her hips to still her before lifting her from his lap and turning them to toss her down beneath him on the mattress. She squeaks in surprise as she bounces there and the Doctor grins, shuffling them both fully onto the bed before leaning back a bit to unbutton her jeans, watching her face carefully as he tugs the zipper down and takes hold of the top of them.

Mels gazes up at him, eyes smouldering as she lifts her hips and he tugs the jeans down her legs and off before moving back over her. He lets his hand slide down her body over taut stomach muscles, cupping her through her knickers and she bucks up keenly into his hand, bottom lip between her teeth again as her thighs fall  apart.

He circles her clit through the dampening material with the pad of his middle finger and she bites her lip harder, moaning softly, hips tilting up into his touch. He knows exactly how to touch River and what gives her pleasure and he goes by the same, slipping his fingers beneath the lacy material (her penchant for pretty underwear is clearly not a recent development) to slide them through slick flesh.

She swallows visibly, hands twisting the sheets beneath her as he touches her sliding his fingers between her folds to open her to him before he presses against her clit again, making her jerk and gasp.

“So, um,” she utters after a moment, breathing quickly as he strokes her rhythmically. “Do you have anything with you?”

“What?”

She raises her eyebrows pointedly, glancing down to the bulge in his trousers and it clicks. “ _Oh_ – protection. Right, yes. Yes, I do.” Moving back from her a little he fumbles for the wallet stuck into the back pocket of his trousers that he’d found in the TARDIS cupboard, and pulls out a condom. He’d known this was going to happen, after all (and River had prepared him, telling him bluntly before he’d left her flat that last time to bring condoms, because she hadn’t had any and it wouldn’t be happening without one – Mels wasn’t stupid, after all.)

Mels nods and, bottom lip between her teeth again (it was something River did very rarely, and only when she was in deep thought or  very worried), she reaches out for him, her hands moving to unfasten his trousers, and she fumbles with the button.

“You're shaking," he comments with some shock. 

"I'm fine," she assures him quickly, but when he gently pushes her hands away and lifts them to his lips to kiss her knuckles, they tremble furiously in his grasp and she snatches them back quickly, avoiding his eyes.

He looks at her carefully. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” she answers quickly, shaking her head.

He didn't expect this, and he understands now why River had told him what happens because, like she’d said, he almost certainly wouldn’t have persevered from here. He’d expected Mels to be more like his River in this situation – although he supposes that was foolish; she was so much younger and so different now. Still, if anything he’d thought, taking into account the wildness he’d seen in her the last time he’d met this version of her, she would be more… _more_  than he was used to – if that was indeed possible. He’d expected her to want to take the dominant role in this, and yet here she is, laid beneath him and shakily waiting for him to make the moves.

He swallows, and brushes a dark lock from her face. “You’re sure about this?” He checks, although he knows what her answer must be.

She nods firmly. “Course I’m sure,” she says quickly, squirming a bit beneath him. “I’m fine – it’s just a bit cold in here is all – get on with it and warm me up, yeah?”

He smiles and that, and leans down to kiss her again, moving his mouth from her lips to kiss down her neck, knowing how it always relaxes his wife and hoping it still has the same effect as he strokes gently up and down her sides. Mels huffs after a moment and squirms again, hands going back to his trousers, and managing the button and zip on them this time. She shoves them down, and doesn’t try to hide her bold stare when he pulls back to rid himself the rest of the way of both them and his boxer shorts.

She looks so beautiful, he thinks, spread about before him, panting with dark eyes half-hooded with desire. Snapping her gaze back up to him, she picks up the condom from the mattress beside them and tosses it at his chest, giving him a pointed smirk. He opens the packet and rolls it on as Melody wriggles out of her knickers.

When he moves fully over again she spreads her thighs, legs bent at the knees and slides her hands up round his neck. “Get it in, then,” she says, words full of crude false bravado the tremble to her voice belies. 

“Shh,” he hushes her, brushing hair form her face and leaning in to kiss her gently. “You’re beautiful Mels,” he says against her lips when he breaks the kiss. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

She doesn’t reply and he kisses her again. “And special. So very special.”

She lets out a short chuckle. “Say that to all the girls you fuck?”

“No. Only you.”

“Because I’m the only one who’s special?” She snorts.

“Yes. You are.”

The amusement fades from her face and she tilts her head at him. “I never met a man like you before,” she says quietly.

“No,” he agrees. “You haven’t. I’ve never met a woman like you either.”

She grins at that. “No, you haven’t.”

He slips a hand down between their bodies to stroke her briefly again, fingertips dancing across her clit before he slides one then two inside her, stroking her within until her hips are rocking towards him in a steady rhythm. She gives an impatient whinge and he withdraws his fingers to take his cock in hand, teasing her with his tip and sliding his length between her folds, gathering her wetness before he lines himself up with her entrance.

Her hands have slid to his back and she tilts her hips up eagerly, and the Doctor pushes inside her. Her brow furrows and she flinches, nails digging hard into his back, and the Doctor pauses. “Are you alright?”

“Perfect," she answers quickly, but there is a strain to her voice. She smiles, panting a bit. “Get on with it then, yeah? Thought you were supposed to be making me feel good or something?”

“And you don’t already?”

“I’m sure I can feel better.”

He slides his hand between them to find her clit with his fingers again. “I’m sure you can.”

She gasps, hips jerking and he smirks and flicks her there lightly as he withdraws enough to slide back inside her.

He begins pumping into her in a steady rhythm, sliding his hand up from between where their bodies are meeting to cup her breast, flicking his thumb lightly over her nipple and making her arch into his touch. He pinches her lightly and she keens, head tilting back on the pillows, eyes tightly closed.

She feels like she is starting to relax beneath him and lifts a leg to curl it round his waist, one hand sliding up to grab a fistful of his hair and tug him down to her. He goes willingly, kissing her open mouth with passion, swallowing her pleased little noises and the occasional grunt and gasp as he gives soft moans of his own into the kiss. In that moment, he is making love to his wife, and he even momentarily forgets she is Mels and not River, holding her tightly and buried so deeply and perfectly in the warmth that is her body.

He breaks form her mouth for air, and kisses down to her neck, nipping and licking at her there as he moves inside her and she begins to rock her own hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. Her heel digs into his backside and he feels her inner walls clench around his cock and grunts into her neck, tightening his hold on her as he breathes her name, the word almost inaudible against her skin; “River.”

He feels Mels pause beneath him. “What?”

“What? Nothing.”

“What did you say?”

He leans up to quickly kiss her, and alters his angle a bit, distracting her when on the next thrust he hits that spot inside her that makes her gasp and let out a little squeak of pleasure. She forgets his slip up easily, throwing her head back, mouth open as she clings tightly to him.

“Oh!” she gasps, bucking up into his thrusts. “Oh, oh… John… _Doctor_ …”

_Definitely had those fantasies then_ … He smiles a bit smugly to himself as he leans down to take her earlobe between his teeth, before flicking his tongue out to lick at the side of her neck as the rhythm of his thrusts increases. He can feel himself getting close, but she is not quite there and he tries to hold out, hand trembling as he pushes it between them to find her swollen clit and rub over it in time to his thrusts. 

She rakes her nails down his back as he moves deep inside her, and the Doctor groans, body trembling. She keens in his ear, tense and panting beneath him, her nails dug into his back and the warmth of her thigh wrapped round his waist, and she is his River, all River, and he can’t hold out any longer and with a yell into her neck, his orgasm grips him. He nearly cries out his wife’s name but manages to just stop himself, instead gasping, “Melody…” into the skin of her neck as his hips jerk into her.

“ _Mels,_ ” she is saying when he comes down off his high, still panting and trembling herself, and he lifts his head to gaze down at her as she wriggles beneath him. She slips her hand down her own body to press trembling fingers to her clit, moving them quickly over the little bundle of nerves, brow furrowed as she desperately seeks her pleasure. He groans with a fresh wave of arousal at the sight, even as he lies softening inside her – his River never had been shy about finding her pleasure. He covers her hand with his own and helps her to bring herself to her climax, leaning down and kissing her when she comes, swallowing her gasps and drinking in her moans until they both lie slumped and sated together.

As soon as he moves off her, Mels tries to get up, but he wraps his arms round her and holds her tightly, cuddling her to him and pressing kisses into her hair that were much too affectionate for a one night stand with a practical stranger, but that he couldn’t help himself giving (she didn’t seem to mind.)

“Why don’t you like Melody?” He asks quietly when their breathing has returned to normal and the sweat is beginning to cool on their skins.

She sighs. “Only certain people call me that. I don’t like them.”

He swallows hard, knowing to whom she is referring. “Your parents?” He questions, playing the part of a stranger to her life.

“No.” She frowns and rolls away. “Don’t have any.”

“Everyone’s got parents.”

She visibly tenses, and he reaches out a hand to stroke over her shoulder soothingly. “I’m sorry, Mels,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry.”

After a moment she rolls back onto her back to look over at him, brow furrowed. “You speak to me as if you care…” She says, her voice holding so much incomprehension his heart breaks a little bit for this young, lost version of his wife.

“I do care,” the fierce words are out of his mouth before he can prevent them.

“ _Why?_ You don’t even know me.”

_I do know you,_ he wants to tell her desperately, _I know you better than anyone in else in the universe…_ He clears his throat. “I know you better than I did this morning,” he opts for saying lightly instead (as much as it pains him to do so) in an attempt to change the mood.

Mels snorts. “Quite a bit better,” she smirks.

“Quite a bit,” he agrees, grinning at her.

She hides her pleased smile in his chest, shuffling closer again and tucking herself into his side a bit shyly, as if half-expecting him to reject her embrace. The Doctor wraps his arms round her tightly, and hears her give a small yawn.

“Tired?”

“No,” she says stubbornly, and he smiles, dropping another kiss to her head.

“Sleep.”

“Will you be gone when I wake up?” She mumbles into his chest.

He sighs. “Yes.”

A pause. “I won’t see you again, will I?”

A small smile comes to his lips and he squeezes her in his arms. “Yes, you will. One day, Melody.”

“Mels,” she corrects him, yawning again.

“Mels,” he says, and ten minutes later, when she’s drifted off to sleep, he whispers, _River,_ against her head, pressing one last kiss there before slipping from the sheets.

\--

He visits River again after, he aims for a couple of weeks since he last saw her, and for once the TARDIS complies.

“Well hello handsome,” she purrs from her back door this time, arms folded again and smile not slipping from her lips.

He smirks, sauntering over to her. “Hello yourself, beautiful.”

“Oh,” she says, eyes raking over his form, drinking in the sight of him greedily. “You _are_ a handsome one aren’t you?”

He waggles his eyebrows, making her laugh, and steps forward to slide his hands round her waist. “Hmm,” she hums, happily pressing herself against him. “Quick, get inside before my husband sees you.”

He laughs too as she turns and tugs him through her door.

Several hours later, when they lie together in her bed, he remembers what he came here to tell her.

“I went back to you – to Mels.”

She smiles up at him serenely. “Did you?”

“Mm.”

“And how did you find me?” She asks lightly, hint of a smirk on her lips.

He grins and bops her nose affectionately. “A perfect little minx. Just as you are now.” He tickles her side a bit at that and she laughs, batting at his hand until he desists.

It settles and goes quiet between them, the Doctor tracing light fingers over River’s shoulder as they doze together peacefully. She speaks up into the quiet, her voice unusually soft.

“You were my first, you know…”

She glances up when he cannot find a reply and frowns when she sees how he is gaping at her.

 “Well thanks sweetie, you don’t need to look so shocked, I hadn’t slept with _that_ many people before I married you, you know.”

“No, it’s not - but I… _me?_ But – but you never said!”

She glances away again, looking a bit shy and suddenly very much like the younger girl from all those years ago as she traces a freckle on his chest. “No… well I didn’t know you, did I? And you were older than me –” she laughs a bit then. “A _lot_ older than I’d thought, actually. I was… a bit in awe of you? I don’t know, sweetie. But we’d only just met. You don’t admit something like that to someone you’ve only just met.”

He stares down at her. “And yet you sleep with them?”

She tenses, frowning, and starts to move away.

“No – I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that,” he tightens his hold on her, dropping a kiss to her curls. “Not at all, I’m sorry. I just meant…” He pauses, contemplating. “Why?" he asks after a moment.

“Why didn’t I tell you?”

“No, why did you sleep with me? Like you said, you didn't even know me, and I was your _first,_ River... Why would you give something like that to a stranger?"

“Oh listen to you, you old romantic,” she teases. 

"I'm serious, River."

She sighs. “Because... It didn't mean anything to me, really. I don’t know, I wasn’t brought up like other kids, I was a weapon, a tool – not a person.”

“Of course you were,” he tells her fiercely with another kiss to her curls.

“Yeah but I saw it how they saw it. Something like that didn’t seem significant. I was just… curious. You came along – and I _liked_ you – I’d never felt that for anyone before. I slept with you because I felt like it. It didn’t mean anything.”

He tilts his head on the pillow to look down at her. “You're lying."

“I'm lying," she sighs. "I mean, I thought I could do it without it meaning anything before but... it did, of course it did. You never forget your first. I loved you a bit that night, you know. And my heart broke just a little when I never saw you again after… although I never let myself admit that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she shakes her head. “That night gave me a glimmer of hope. Hope that… that feelings like that - love, a connection between two people could exist… I believe that night was what made me capable of loving you, you know, sweetie,” she says softly. “In Berlin –” She falters, her voice cracking a bit and he knows how difficult the memory is for her- how much she hates herself for what she did even now. He strokes her back soothingly. “I’m not sure I would have saved you if it hadn’t happened,” she admits quietly.

He is silent, contemplating that quietly as he holds her close.

“When I found out – in Berlin – what you could mean to me – what I meant to you and what we could have… I don’t think I would have believed it if you hadn’t –” She breaks off, choking up and he hushes her, holding her a bit tighter and kissing her head softly. It is so unlike his River to let him see this side of her, and he knows she is only doing so because she cannot control it. She sniffs hard, wiping at her face and mumbling an apology.

Getting herself under control, she shifts her head on the pillow to look up at him after a moment, then and a brilliant smile lights up her face as she lifts a hand to cup his cheek. “All along - It was _you,_ sweetie… it was always you.”

He looks back at her a moment before smiling too, rolling to fully face her and placing a hand on her cheek too. “Your first,” he says with a proud grin, “I like that,” he decides, and River lets out a rather un-River like giggle.

“Me too,” she says, shuffling closer and slipping a leg over his. “Yours from the start, huh?”

“All mine,” he says, with a hint of possessiveness he knows she rather likes, “My bespoke psychopath.”

“Always,” she says, and he smiles before he leans in to kiss her. 

**Author's Note:**

> I deliberately did not describe the twelfth Doctor in detail because I wanted you to be able to get your own picture of him in your head as you read. Also, something that's occurred to me is that I'm not sure if the age of legal consent is different for other countries… but over here (UK) it’s sixteen, and I wrote Mels as seventeen here (although she’s actually a bit older if you count her previous regeneration anyway...) but yes – she’s definitely intended to be a legal consenting adult in this fic!! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed <3


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